A Prisoner's Love
by Vasilia
Summary: One day while Lithuania chances upon the prisoner Russia walking through his garden. At first they become friends and as Lithuania realizes his loves this criminal he waits for the chance to be with him. But is Russia truly as he seems? One-sided LietRuss
1. Prologue: Promise

Prologue.

Before my life had been nothing but a blur of meaningless activity. The same everyday lifestyle surrounded by the common people I've known and grown up with. School on regular days, a brief weekend, and school again; same boring repetition day in and day out. The smallest of rarities only lasted so long in a sleepy place like this. Like when the new girl Poland moved here; students made her arrival hot gossip that lasted two months before moving on to talking about the regular town legends. The only thing that was actually mildly entertaining anymore.

Even after I graduated high school and moved onto college I still couldn't escape the little town of St. Hetalia. Everyone stayed and got some form of extra schooling or another before coming into their family's business. No one ever left because there was nothing for them outside of this small world.

One day. Someone will reach out and break the confined world we live in but that person won't be me. I'm too cowardly of a person to try.

But he could…no he wouldn't. But if it meant being with him, I'd do almost anything. I love Russia more than anything even if he doesn't tell me how he feels about mw. For him I break the world, or at least myself.


	2. Awakening

An alarm clicked and began to buzz. A tired hand rose from beneath piled blankets to bash the annoying thing until it stopped making the irksome noise. It was too late, it had waked him up and he had only one choice now, to begin his day.

Tossing away the warm coverings Lithuania got up and stretched; much like the cats his neighbor Greece loved to keep around. 'Now was not the time to be thinking of cats and Greece,' he told himself. 'Now is the time to be preparing yourself for going out into the world.'

The world? What a lie, all his world consisted of was a tiny going-nowhere, slowly decaying town named St. Hetalia. The welcome sign that was at both entrances to the despairing place was "We host meetings of the World!" Host? The only thing this damned area ever hosted was the annual Snow Ball that commemorated General Winter's official arrival.

Lithuania punched the wall half-heartedly in his anger. So weak it was that it didn't even make an audible thump. 'I'm so pitiful...just like this town.' He sighed and regained his composure with a resigned look on his face. Casting a look at his depressed reflection in a nearby mirror he reminded himself that someday there was always a possibility that he would be able to leave and never come back to St. Hetalia again.

Lithuania crossed the dim room and threw open his curtains. What he saw could never cease to make him smile. A large garden of sunflowers stretching their petals out in peaceful prayer to the midday sun. What would the world be like without the majesty of sunflowers? But that was just one piece to the attraction. Drawing the curtains even farther back he could see his beautiful arranged beds of callow lilies on the left and right circled by multiple thorny bushes of white and red roses.

Without his garden, Lithuania would surely have perished a long time ago. This was it, his whole reason to live, and breathe and…wait?

A sadness crossed Lithuania's previously happy face as he realized the extent of his thought. His whole point of existence…was for some stupid flowers?! Blood rushed to his head as Lithuania started to throw various objects at the windows in order to shatter them. The things grew larger in size until he was wielding a metal chair and began bashing the windows with it.

'I. Am. Not. Going. To. Live. The rest. Of my life. Taking. Care. Of. Flowers!!' His words came in alternating synchronization with his beating of the windows. His breathing soon became heavy ad labored as the anger abated only to be replaced by an acquiescent calm. Every single one of his "attacks" on the firm windows rebounded into his limbs with twice the force he had applied.

Hot, shamed tears of frustration slipped down his weary face as he curled into a childish ball. A quiet sob escaped his throat as he began to embrace the silence of his room and tune into the voices elsewhere.

~-~-~-~-~

Meanwhile…Norway and Denmark sat eating lunch at a small table, neither spoke a word as both were preoccupied with a paper of some sort. Once the crashing started Norway lifted her head towards the noise and smiled sadly. "Will he be alright?" she asked her husband Denmark. "This is the third time this week. I'm starting to get worried."

'''The lad will be fine.''' Denmark said in a gruff voice. '''He's just being a teenager-'''

"He's nineteen years old; he will be twenty in two months!"

'''And so? Look if you're worried about the windows it'll be fine. After what happened last time I bought shatter-proof, bullet-proof, and every other damn kind of proof in existence put into those windows. Stop worrying. He won't be getting through those windows.'''

Norway was silent for a moment, her train of thought moving t=along on a fast track. "Where did we go wrong?"

'''Don't start that again…'''

"No I mean it, we did something to make him like this-"

'''Norway, he's just sick of this town! Every day is the same for him. He's not like us; he doesn't know what the rest of the world is like! He wants to experience!''' Denmark hadn't been aware that he had been shouting until he noticed Norway bent over slightly shaking; she was crying. '''Come on now babe, it's not your fault. He's just growing up. Even if he does leave he will visit and we will still have Latvia…There, there.'''

~-~-~-~-~

Lithuania sneaked past the doorway he'd moved to in order to hear his parent better. Truly there was no need to have moved from his room for Denmark's shouts echoed all throughout the house, Norway's crying was harder to hear but once Lithuania had moved closer they were for clearer. Guilt stabbed through him repeatedly as he thought of how much pain he must be causing him. But then again, he was slightly glad that Denmark understood him; it would make his leaving so much easier when he knew he hadn't left a mystery behind. Lithuania's mind barely registered on the fact that Latvia would be his replacement. It's not that he didn't care, after all it did sting but he now knew they were aware of what his "captivity" was doing to him. He wanted out of St. Hetalia and if something didn't happen worthwhile enough to stay he would go mad trying to.

He had stopped his rampage when he saw the windows would not break but that was not all. Out of his peripheral vision he could've sworn he'd spotted a figure walking through his beloved sunflower patch. That's why Lithuania was in such a hurry to leave the oppressing house and go into an even more oppressing world.

Little did he know, he may have just witnessed the key to his cage.


	3. Flower Angst

Chapter Two.

Lithuania passed through the front door of his house knowing full well that his parents would hear him going out. No doubt he would catch them staring at him from out of one of the upstairs windows. Lithuania walked quickly to his garden, slightly eager to see the mysterious stranger; however another part of him said that it was merely a trick of light and nothing else.

Once Lithuania had rounded the final corner to his house he stared at the vast flower-covered field and saw…no one. A brief wave of disappointment flickered across his face before being replaced by his now usual "bored on the outside, dead on the inside" expression. Even though no one was there he decided to stroll through his garden anyways.

He let his fingers glide across smooth petals, fuzzy stems, and waxy leaves. His fingers caught on a few rose thorns but the pain from the bleeding barely registered in his mind. He circled the entire garden before entering through a secret trail that began the long spiral towards the center. From a bird's eye view one could easily see the large spiral with which the garden had been planted, without such a view the only one who knew the garden's secret was its caretaker, Lithuania. Even gazing out of one of the second floor windows like Norway was doing now as she cleaned the windows from Lithuania's room, she could not see the spiraling path in the round garden.

Lithuania continued along his secret path, stopping only to pluck a few weeds or scoop up fallen flowers that were in his way. The rose bushes were soon replaced by large rows of calla lilies; beautiful even in their semi-bloomed state. Lithuania stopped, sensing something amiss with the lilies. He turned and spotted a medium-sized empty spot in the middle of a lily bed. It looked as if someone had reached down and plucked three or four of the precious plants from their growing place.

'Someone was here…the stranger?' He uttered a quick prayer and buried the fallen lilies he had found into the newly freed soil. 'Someone has…invaded my sanctuary.' Lithuania sank slowly to the ground, his face glancing skyward; a look of absolute grief upon his face. 'My sanctuary has now become a prison. Just like my house, just like my town, just like my life.' Lithuania cast a glance at the towering rose bushed in the distance, those are the wall. This endless spiral is my pointless life. Calla lilies…of grief, sorrow, death. The sudden stop the trail, my own untimely demise.

This "sanctuary" has become what everything else in this world is like for me. Anger rose and then quickly fled his system. No matter how bad he may have been feeling he could never get and stay angry with his beloved garden.

Truly it was the only thing he actually cared for in his life. Well, he loved his parents in that unconditional-love-your-parents-and-family-way. Then there was his friend Poland, he cared about her…But it was this small patch of domesticated greenery that he actually thought of and cared for on a daily basis. But how much can an individual love a bunch of flowers? Especially since they were mute and could no longer speak. It was a fool's unrequited love.

With this in mind Lithuania rose and walked along his hidden pathway. His fingers no longer seeked to stretched out to touch the flowers and they turned away from him in a mock form of weeping.

Lithuania had shut down his sense completely, moving only with the aid of instinct as his guide. His eyes were unfocused and unseeing; causing him to be incapable of glimpsing the body on the ground. His ears had given themselves over to the persistent ringing and the fluttered pounding of his heart. Otherwise he would have heard the labored breathing of the stranger. He could not smell the vodka-tinted air around him as his nose had been paralyzed from extreme exposure to the flower's heavy incense.

So blind was Lithuania in his distressed moment it's hard to believe he met the man at all. But Lithuania's feet tripped over the being, causing all of sense hit to suddenly kick in as he tried to stop falling. He landed completely sprawled out onto the man's torso. Once he had managed to regain his balance he noticed he was lying directly on top of the man's broad chest, his hair falling into the man's scarf.

The figure was asleep and remained so even as Lithuania scrambled to climb off of the mysterious man. He struggled to free himself of the man only to find his hands were caught inside the loose scarf in some impossible-but-it-happened way. He sighed, blood rushing to his cheeks as he imagined how weird it must look to someone else.

Lithuania took the time to study the man's face. It was a cute face in an almost childish way. His expression contained a peace that seems almost unnatural, as if the face was more prone to smiling in a slightly sinister way. The air around him was chilly despite the warm weather Lithuania had been experiencing only moments before. It was like winter's first arrival and he also had the light smell of vodka coming off of his clothes.

The unfamiliarity was clouding Lithuania's heart, making him want to cling to the stranger evermore for he symbolized something unknown.

Lithuania awoke to find his hands free, himself lying on the ground, his head pounding as if he had just gone through a drinking binge and was just now receiving the hangover, and he could also sense that his hair was being played with. His eyes weren't open; actually he was afraid to open them, fearful of what he might see.


End file.
